Edan Dietrich. The Emperor’s bastard. On his sixth birthday.
Locked away in the most remote corner of the Imperial Palace, a place overgrown with weeds untouched by human footsteps.
Abandoned the moment his mother—the Emperor’s concubine—died. His life was destined to end imprisoned there, forgotten forever.
“F-Fire, Your Highness…!”
Thirteen years old. He gained a power he never wanted.
“Prince Edan has manifested his ability?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. And….”
When the news reached the Emperor, the entire Imperial Palace was thrown into chaos.
It had been barely a month since Killian Dietrich, who awakened his ability at age fifteen, was formally named Crown Prince. Yet now, the discarded, nearly forgotten bastard prince had manifested power too.
Of course, this wouldn’t immediately overturn Killian’s position as Crown Prince or cause some dramatic upheaval—but the real problem lay elsewhere.
“Forgive my boldness… but… his ability is significantly stronger than Crown Prince Killian’s….”
The servant delivering the news bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the floor, voice trembling as if he himself were a criminal. Beside the Emperor, the Empress’s elaborately manicured fingernails trembled faintly at their tips.
The Empire was already struggling with monstrous beasts that multiplied no matter how many were slain.
Though many knights possessed abilities, truly exceptional ability-wielders were rare and invaluable.
The mere fact that Crown Prince Killian had manifested a remarkable ability had already elevated the Imperial family’s prestige.
But now—an ability even stronger than his?
The Emperor’s eyes gleamed as he firmly stroked the black diamond embedded in his royal scepter.
Then, exhilarated, he shouted:
“Bring the prince to the Imperial Palace immediately!”
Edan, who had lived like an orphan, became a true prince again that very day—treated with honor and reverence.
Thanks to his absurdly overwhelming power and striking beauty, the palace denizens naturally began to look up to Edan.
Though Edan himself was suffering terribly from the pain caused by his ability.
Amid the palace’s jealous intrigues and tangled politics, Edan had no choice but to endure solely through his own strength.
And even that—the very reason Edan was allowed to remain as a prince—was rooted in the Empress’s sinister scheme.
‘Send that child to the battlefield. With such an ability, it would be a waste to let it rot unused. His blood is tainted—let him at least serve the Imperial family through such duties. What greater honor could there be than dying painfully in battle for the Empire?’
To the still-young Edan, this amounted to being told: Use your ability until it kills you in agony.
Because Killian’s birth mother—the Empress—came from a ducal house wielding the Empire’s supreme power, the Emperor couldn’t protect Edan. From age fifteen onward, Edan was forced to lead monster-slaying expeditions.
This was the direct result of the Empress’s suggestion: “Would it not be better for Edan to bear that pain, rather than letting Killian suffer?”
At eighteen, Edan ascended to the position of Northern Archduke—the youngest ever. But this, too, was no honor.
It was to guard the North’s impenetrable wall.
Edan silently continued his battles against the monsters from his post, swallowing healing potions sent by the Temple until he nearly vomited.
“Your Grace, would it not be better to receive direct healing instead?”
“No.”
“Prince Killian and others all do so. Even those with far weaker abilities than yours accept direct healing. So perhaps….”
“Ruben, how many times must I say no?”
“…My apologies.”
Once, long ago, Edan had attempted direct healing.
He had merely held hands. The healing power wasn’t exceptionally strong, but the pain gently subsided—and slowly, Edan began absorbing the Holy Maiden candidate’s power. Yet a repulsive nausea surged through him—and in that instant, the Holy Maiden candidate lunged at Edan.
Her power, meant for healing, was twisted by lust. He had never felt anything more vile. From the start, she hadn’t volunteered to heal him—she was obsessed with his beauty. Since then, Edan refused all direct healing involving physical contact.
Later, after coming of age, conflict arose between Edan and his half-brother Killian.
Killian’s faction, backed by the Empress’s powerful family, had grown nearly as formidable as the Emperor himself. Due to this incident, even obtaining Temple potions became difficult.
The one small mercy was that the Emperor, still acknowledging Edan as his son, personally arranged shipments of potions from the Temple. But half of them were counterfeit.
“How dare they do this! I’ll go confront them myself!”
“Enough. Don’t waste your energy.”
Still, even fake potions were necessary. They were all he had left to rely on.
As time passed, monsters appeared in the North with increasing frequency. Edan spent most of his waking hours plagued by intense headaches.
Now, remembering a day without pain had become nearly impossible.
“Shut up! I told you it’s too loud!”
CRASH! A glass tumbler, flung out of habit, shattered against the wall.
His nerves frayed, hypersensitive to the slightest movements around him—he had become a madman. Around that time, Ruben purchased an old fortress in the East.
“Your Grace, perhaps you should rest alone during the day.”
Edan, aware he was slowly losing his sanity, agreed.
It was agony. The ever-increasing dosage of potions. The persistent, loathsome discomfort of headaches that refused to fully vanish.
Now, he felt he would do anything—no matter how filthy—if it meant silencing this maddening, throbbing pain.
Then, a new Holy Maiden candidate appeared.
“A potion containing one hundred percent of the Holy Maiden’s power.”
One of the priests Edan had planted within the Temple brought him a potion infused with her healing energy.
It was the deepest red he’d ever seen—a healing power richer and more potent than any before.
Without hesitation, Edan downed it.
He felt the headache recede—almost entirely. Yet somehow, a faint, unpleasant sensation lingered.
“Ivy Violet—is this woman to be crowned the next Grand Holy Maiden?”
“Yes. How was the effect?”
Edan flung the empty potion bottle aside.
“Not bad.”
But it wasn’t the pure, clean relief he’d hoped for.
“Then… what if you received direct healing from Holy Maiden Ivy this time?”
“If it were possible, I would’ve done it long ago.”
Of course, if he truly wished, he could storm the Temple—but that would be tantamount to completely shattering his relationship with Crown Prince Killian.
One misstep, and it could be deemed treason.
Ever since the previous Grand Holy Maiden’s death, Temple laws had grown increasingly strict.
For a brief moment, eased by the temporarily subdued headache, Edan leaned his head back lazily against his chair.
Then the priest offered unexpected information.
“I overheard Holy Maiden Ivy making a request to Lord Killian.”
“What was it?”
“On her way to the Temple, her friend fell from their carriage in an accident. She said they were as close as family—and she wants to find her.”
“…Friend?”
“Yes. Originally, that friend was also a Holy Maiden candidate destined for the Temple.”
Edan, lost briefly in thought, slowly straightened his posture.
“Does this friend also possess strong healing power?”
“It doesn’t seem so… From what I’ve heard, her friend’s healing ability doesn’t appear particularly useful.”
Seeing the priest’s indifferent reply, a cold smirk curled on Edan’s lips.
“Ridiculous. Then she’ll just die.”
“W-Well…”
“To bring a friend—who likely faces certain death—into the Temple, treating her like family… Does Holy Maiden Ivy not realize this, or is she saying it fully aware?”
At that time, all Temple gossip revolved around Ivy—so the priest, caught off guard, hadn’t considered this angle.
“Perhaps… she simply doesn’t realize, which is why she made the request….”
Edan chuckled softly.
“Then, what did she promise in return for finding her friend?”
“The Grand Holy Maiden… herself.”
In that instant, his previously cold crimson eyes burned hot with intensity.
“A hostage, then.”
“I believe she will be of great help to Your Grace.”
Resting his chin on his hand, Edan replied:
“I’ll ensure a generous sum of gold coins is granted. Now, what information do you have about this friend?”
“Well… I was momentarily distracted and didn’t catch her full name… but she’s described as a girl with bright cherry-blossom-pink hair. I-I’ll find out her name and report back.”
Cherry-blossom-pink hair…
If Edan delivered this friend to Ivy before Killian did, he could demand her healing anytime he wished. Gazing at the nearly empty ruby-red potion bottle, Edan’s lips slowly twisted into a smile.
Unlike his childhood, Edan was no longer in a position to refuse anything.
If it meant freeing himself from this maddening headache—if it meant escaping the pain awaiting him ahead—he would do anything now.
After concluding his conversation with the priest, Edan went into battle again that day—and, as always, the headache returned.
As Edan prepared to open a portal back to the fortress, Ruben stopped him.
“Your Grace.”
“Ruben, good work. Go rest.”
“I thought I should inform you—in case you’re surprised.”
“What is it?”
“I hired a maid.”
Unbelievable. He’d acquired a fortress precisely to escape the hypersensitivity caused by others—yet now, a maid?
“You should at least eat proper meals. Skipping meals every time like this….”
“Fine.”
Too weary to continue the conversation, Edan gave a half-hearted nod.
Yet, upon returning at dawn, he found a tray of food placed outside his chamber door.
‘Tsk.’
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Edan opened the silver dome—and for a fleeting moment, curiosity flickered in his eyes.
A fried egg, slightly misshapen, had a face drawn onto it with condiments.
He’d opened it intending to discard it—but the sight suddenly reminded him of childhood.
When he was locked in a cramped, filthy room crawling with rats and insects, sick with fever and unable to eat, Ruben had once brought his mother’s lunchbox to share. Back then too, a sausage had a little face drawn on it. Nostalgia stirred—he sliced off a corner of the egg with his fork and took a small bite.
That was all.
“…What?”
Miraculously, his headache vanished completely. A sensation he’d never felt before.
The excruciating, needle-like pain stabbing relentlessly through his skull—gone.
As if he’d returned to the time before manifesting his power. As if his body were finally free.
And a few hours later, leaning against the windowsill and gazing outside, Edan spotted a figure stretching lazily in the garden—hair the color of cherry blossoms.
For the first time in ages, a bright, genuine laugh burst from Edan’s lips.
“Heh.”
Cherry blossoms… were right here, in my hands.
After Being Cheated On, She Picked Up a Treasure (Female-dominant)
One-line summary: The husband I married on a whim had been secretly in love with me for a long time.
On the day when Jun Shao finally obtained the imperial decree for her marriage, Lan Qu, the person she had admired for six years, defied the decree and ran away.
Her gentleness and devotion, her promise of a lifetime together, were all disregarded by him. Instead, he dreamed of entering the palace to serve the Emperor’s sister as a sixth-rank attendant.
News of this incident spread throughout the capital, and the alleys in front of and behind the Lan mansion were crowded with people who came to watch the commotion.
Jun Shao should have been embarrassed and angry.
But someone stepped in to protect her dignity.
The figure was in a miserable state, yet still possessed an undeniable elegance and handsomeness.
The young lord struggled to climb the wall of the Lan mansion and shouted to her, “If he won’t marry you, I will!”
So, Jun Shao took advantage of the situation and married the person.
She thought the young lord did it to save the Lan family from the crime of defying the imperial decree, but never imagined that from beginning to end, what he coveted was her.
*
After the wedding, Jun Shao felt like she was living in a dream.
Her Wife-master was as beautiful as a fairy in a painting, skilled in the six arts, well-versed in poetry and literature, capable of being gentle and attentive, and also grand and dignified. Most importantly, she was the only one in his heart and eyes.
Jun Shao didn’t know how Lan Shiwu, as a illegitimate son without a father and blessed with beauty, had managed to preserve his purity, recklessly escape, and use his last ounce of strength to ruin his own reputation, all because of his love for her, just to stand before her.
She could only see him gazing at her with eyes full of love, and when she bestowed a name upon him, his eyes shone like stars.
“You have come to me like a weary bird perching on a branch. I shall call you A Qi.”
